


As You Are

by tubofskippy



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017)
Genre: Body Image, Comforting, Crossdressing, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Food, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, Music, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Curse (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), Romance, Weight Gain, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:08:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21919603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tubofskippy/pseuds/tubofskippy
Summary: The curse has been lifted. Gaston is gone. Lefou and Stanley are happy together, yet Lefou’s insecurity still lingers, especially after he puts on some winter weight. Stanley longs to express himself on the outside. They both show each other how much they love each other, in their own special ways.
Relationships: Adam/Belle (Disney), LeFou & Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast), LeFou/Stanley (Disney: Beauty and the Beast)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Lefou's head was sent whirling like the sight of the ballroom walls around him. He suddenly found himself holding broad shoulders, breeches brushing against his own as his feet moved, staring into a pair of deep brown eyes… eyes that belonged to a masculine face. Without knowing how it happened, he was now waltzing around the floor with…  
“Stanley?”  
“Állo,” he winked. Incredibly flustered, Lefou looked around. They were quite surely the only same sex dancing partners in the room.  
“There must've been a mistake, I'm sorry I ran into you—”  
“Mistake?” Stanley smiled. Lefou’s cheeks turned pink. The two seemed to be caught going in an awkward circle, both trying to pull the same moves.  
“Who's leading here?” Lefou giggled, trying not to step on his toes. Stanley lifted the arm that was grasping Lefou’s hand and without thinking, Lefou twirled. It was almost instinctive. “You, then?” The words came out breathy. Stanley laughed.  
The two continued to dance together through the night. They could feel the room’s eyes on them, but it didn’t matter. With each song they became more and more comfortable, familiarizing each other’s rhythm and moves. The castle wasn’t staring at them only because they were both male. They were an incredible dancing pair. A crescendo began to build towards the end of the song, and so did Stanley’s confidence. He slid his hand behind Lefou’s lower back and closed the space between them.  
“What’s happening?” Lefou asked, addled. By this time, they had everyone’s attention.  
“Trust me.”  
Stanley suddenly swept over him and dipped Lefou so low to the ground that his ponytail graced the floor, just as the song finished. They held the pose for a good twenty seconds while the audience applauded. Lefou’s face was priceless; his mouth left hanging in the shape of an O. He had been impressed by surprise moves before, but this one might’ve taken the cake. It felt good to be applauded. The last time Lefou had been on the spot in front of the village was a degrading wrestling match… but now, he felt entirely the opposite. Butterflies filled his stomach as Stanley pulled him back onto his feet.  
An hour or so later, slower songs began to play, turning the mood hazy and tender. Stanley and Lefou were tired. They sat on the sidelines and watched couples sway. After a few drinks, Stanley grabbed Lefou by the hand and whispered into his ear,  
“Let’s get out of here.” Lefou’s skin tingled. The way Stanley executed the sentence felt more scampish than whatever he had planned.  
“Where will we go?”  
“Somewhere quiet. And comfortable.” Stanley led him out of the room. “You hungry?”  
“You want to take me out to dinner? Stanley, this is beginning to sound romantic,” Lefou mumbled half-jokingly, flattered only if he wasn’t mistaken.  
“Really?” Stanley looked shocked. Lefou closed his eyes tight in embarrassment. He should have kept his mouth shut. “We were only dancing for what, two and a half hours, and it’s just now beginning to sound romantic?” Stanley continued. Lefou let out the breath he had been holding. Stanley was… serious. Was this really happening?  
The two pushed their way through the doors and ran into the night, hand in hand, without even thinking about who would serve food at this hour.  
A date, they called it, and there were many more to follow.


	2. Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stanley and Lefou get ready for their big upcoming projects.

“Stanley, sucre, would you mind handling this one?”  
A coat was thrown onto Stanley’s pile of unfinished clothing. A man had brought it into the boutique earlier that day, all torn up.  
“Mon Dieu, I’m afraid to ask what this one’s story is,” He exclaimed, peering through holes that went through both sides. Holding a thread between his teeth, he laid the sad piece of cloth flat on the table and began his work. Business had been great this season. The tailor shop was bustling with clients, each bringing with them a gust of frosty air into the boutique with every swing of the door. This winter was a long one, but it didn’t phase him one bit. Stanley had really found his place there. He was lucky to have met Madame de Garderobe, who soon became his business partner and mentor in fashion. She loved him dearly and took him under her wing straight away.  
“Excusez-moi, monsieur Stanley Leypere!”  
He peered over the table to see who the tiny voice belonged to.  
“Amélie!” He cried, recognizing the little girl at once. She was a regular at only six years old. Her left arm had been amputated, and her clothes were often dropped off at the shop to have the left sleeve removed. Whenever Amélie came into the shop, she always made a beeline for the dresses. Of course, she never bought any. She didn’t have the money, and many of the dresses they sold were made for those older and taller than her, especially with two limbs, but she enjoyed stopping by just to try them on anyway. She reminded Stanley of himself when he was her age.  
“May I look at the dresses again?”  
“As always, little one. You look so beautiful in them,” he replied, as she wandered over to the corner and tugged at the bottom of a white gown. It was her favorite.  
“One day I’m gonna buy it when I’m big and I work here with you,” she’d say with the length of the dress piling up at her feet, one sleeve swinging off of her shoulder. It melted Stanley’s heart.  
“Amélie,” he whispered, before she could step into it again, “this is the one you’ve always wanted, yes?” She nodded her head. “I hope so. Come here.” Making sure Madame de Garderobe wasn’t looking, he brought her behind the table and presented her with a replica of the same dress, sewn in her size with one sleeve instead of two. Her eyes lit up with awe.  
“You made this?”  
“Mm-hm. I’ve been working on it in between projects all winter.”  
“I take it back, I wish I could buy THIS one!”  
“You like it?” She nodded, empty pockets and tears in her eyes. “Then it’s yours.” She threw her little arm around him in a hug. Stan was impressed with himself. Where had he heard that line before?  
“Thank you, monsieur Leypere!” She shouted. She grabbed the dress with glee and headed for the door, wrestling to put on her coat. “I’m gonna wear it to the show at the Tavern next month! You’ll be there, won’t you?”  
“Of course I will! Henri’s working on some excellent numbers!”  
“I haven’t seen Monsieur Lefou in a long time! I can’t wait to see his show. Tell him I’m bringing my dancing dress!” She giggled held the dress close to her chest.  
“Haha ok, Amélie. Goodbye! Stay warm!” The bell on the door gave a ring as she disappeared into the cold. “Cute kid.”  
“That was very nice of you. How is that Henri Lefou of yours, anyway?” Madame de Garderobe asked, folding a petticoat. “I don’t believe I’ve seen him since the summertime.”  
Lefou of his? Stanley laughed. They hadn’t exactly been discreet about their relationship. Garderobe hadn’t ever mentioned it to Stanley, but he knew she’d caught on from the start. She was accepting, anyhow. “Oh, he’s incredible, Madame. Planning the show’s been keeping him occupied. He’s been rather mellow lately. It’s surprising, what with the performance so near,” he replied.  
“Ah, I always look forward to his concerts. They really give this village a spark of life. And I’m assuming Lumiere is in on this one again? He’s quite the entertainer.” She giggled at the thought of what the Tavern might look like if he were put in charge. “When you see him next, tell Lefou I’m eager to lend my voice!”  
“I will! He’s already finished with two of your solos.”  
“Trés bon!”  
Just like every day, Stanley couldn’t wait to get home and see him. Ever since they’d moved in together, everything felt just right. As soon as he went through that door, Stanley was walking on a cloud. In the midst of a brutal winter, he felt warmth. Lefou reminded him of home. Security. Comfort. Love. He was happier than ever. And Lefou... he felt the exact same way.

Lefou sat alone in the living room, scrawling a few more notes onto paper beneath the candlelight before he got out of his seat to stretch. Since he stayed around the house all day composing, he hardly had to get dressed up anymore, usually adorning himself with comfortably loose trousers and baggy shirts. He held his sheet music in one hand, and with the other ran a thumb and forefinger across the prickly stubble that carpeted the lower half of his face. He lifted his sheet closer to the light and replayed the tune in his head.  
“Da, da da da… daaaaaa, da da da da…” After setting it back down on the table and making a few adjustments with his quill, he let out a yawn and shuffled towards the window. Snow fell slowly against the dark trees. Still no sign of Stanley. He hadn’t realized how late it had gotten. Stanley’s work hours seemed to be getting longer and longer. Well, either that or the days were getting shorter. Even though Stanley wasn't there next to him, just being in the house they shared made Lefou feel less alone. In this period of his life, he finally felt at ease. It had been nearly two and a half years since Gaston… since the curse was lifted. He would never forget him, no, but for once in his life, Gaston was no longer in the front of his mind. Many of the things Lefou used to spend all his energy thinking about and mulling over had subsided; replaced with, at last, something good.  
Stanley.  
Stanley hadn’t been anything to Lefou but supportive. Overly so. He felt as if Stanley was treating him the way he used to treat Gaston. Only this time, no one was stabbed in the back, used, or left behind. Stanley and Lefou were equals. Always putting each other forward. Lefou had never been embraced this way by anyone before, and he’d never been happier.  
He sat down at his desk again and cracked his knuckles, then picked up his quill and thought carefully about what lyrics to write. He managed to jot down a few ideas, but the words were simple and didn’t rhyme very well. He supposed he’d go to Belle for synonyms that were easier on the ear. After all, he still wasn’t completely literate, but he had improved a great deal. The set was almost complete, all he needed to write now was the finale.  
His shows were very popular among the village. Gaston left the Tavern to Lefou, and he’d really turned the place around. It was no longer inhabited by drunkards and hunters, but by families. It was a warm and welcoming spot where people came to eat, socialize, and be entertained. Villagers felt safe there. Accepted. Even the prince dropped in every now and then.  
The Tavern was not the only thing that had transformed. Lefou’s reputation had died with the man responsible for it. Gaston’s foolish lackey was now a well known and respected man in Villeneuve. The whole village had always known his name, but now it was associated with his talent and charm. Unlike the rest of them, Stanley had been the first to see it.  
Lefou decided that he would dedicate the finale to Stanley. Their relationship still wasn’t publicly announced, but if just Stanley alone knew that the song was for him… that would be enough. Trying to wrap his mind around romantic words to accompany the tune he’d spent all day working on wore him out, and as soon as Lefou knew it, his face was flat on the desk.  
He was stirred by a pair of strong hands gently massaging the back of his neck.  
“Hu-zZtanley? Gahh, you're so cold!”  
Stanley slid his arms down and around Lefou’s torso as he leaned over and planted a kiss on his bewhiskered cheek.  
“Sorry for waking you,” Stan mumbled into the side of his face. “But we have a bed for a reason.”  
“Stanley!” Lefou chuckled, rubbing his eyes.  
“What? I just wouldn’t expect a wooden desk to be the most comfortable place to sleep,” Stan laughed to himself. “What're you doing working so late, anyway?”  
“Me? It’s you who’s working late! What time is it? I haven't seen you all day,” Lefou whimpered.  
“I know it's late, I'm sorry, I missed you, but I brought you this,” Stanley’s rapid fire apology was topped by a box of crullers that he placed in Lefou’s hands. He stopped at the bakery to do something nice for him, which, if he was honest, probably took him another hour to get home. Lefou looked at them and then at Stanley.  
“You are forgiven,” he said. Stanley smiled as he removed his coat. “Though I have to ask, where've you been today besides the bakery?”  
“Nowhere but the boutique. Madame de Garderobe had me working overtime. Our employer,” he mockingly held a hand to his chest, “was rrroyalty.”  
“Prince Adam?”  
“Mhm. We’re getting paid big time. He asked us to design an outfit specifically to wear to your production.” Lefou stood in front of him, with a mixed expression of what Stanley could tell by his face was shock, flattery, and nervousness.  
“Really!” he practically exhaled the word. “Gosh, I didn't think that my shows were that big of a deal! I gotta up my game, I gotta have special lighting and confetti and things, I—”  
“Lefou, it’s because he plans to propose.”  
The look on his face suddenly turned to pleasant surprise.  
“He and Belle are finally tying the knot?”  
He clutched his chest. Stanley nodded. Lefou’s eyes sparkled as he opened the box of crullers.  
“You, me, and Garderobe are the only ones who know, so don't you dare open that gob of yours,” Stanley said, taking a cruller from the box and shoving it in Lefou’s mouth. Lefou took it out and laughed.  
“Princess Belle. It has a nice ring to it!”  
“I can see it now. She'll do such wonders for the village.”  
“She already has. Hopefully this time she'll do them without being thwarted,” Lefou said, snidely.  
“Hey. I apologized for the laundry thing like eight times.”  
Stanley took the armchair beside him, and the both of them let out long simultaneous sighs of contentment. Stanley couldn’t remember the last time he was off of his feet. In between work he’d been doing most of the wood chopping. It was enough to wear him out. He was about to close his eyes, but Lefou’s chewing caught his attention.  
“Hey, uh, Henri? I forgot something.”  
“Whug was vat?” He replied in that muffled mouthful version of his voice.  
“Dinner.”  
Lefou smiled and handed over the box.  
“I'w meeg you in bedf,” he said, patting Stan on the shoulder, then sleepily made his way around the corner.  
“Henri, I swear, if you get crumbs in the sheets…”  
Stanley stared at him until he disappeared into the bedroom. He loved the way he moved. He loved him in general. Baggy trousers, messy hair, crumbs and all. He gazed into the fireplace, a memory resurfacing itself in his head; their first “dinner” together after the ball. He smiled when he remembered how baffled Lefou was when Stanley told him how handsome he looked. Stanley figured it was because Lefou never realized that he also had a preference for men. He tried dropping hints, but Lefou never picked up on them. Luckily Stanley’s sisters helped him work up the courage to seize a dance with him the day of the ball. He normally didn’t have as much confidence as Lefou. He was just so grateful that Lefou said yes. All those nights spent watching him dance enticingly around the Tavern… who would’ve thought that Stanley, sir shy, could sweep him off his feet?  
The time was around twelve. Stanley blew out every candle but one and carried it with him carefully to the bedroom. He set it on the nightstand. The dim flicker lit up Lefou’s dark untousled hair, spread across his pillow. Stanley watched the gentle curvature of his back as he breathed. He couldn't help but think how lucky he was to have someone as sweet and warm as Lefou to share his bed with. He gently lifted himself onto the mattress and climbed under the covers. Something grainy scraped his shaven legs as they slid beneath the sheets.  
Crumbs.  
“Lefou…”  
At the sound of his surname, half asleep, the culprit made an effort to roll himself over and squint at Stanley. The evidence still lined his mouth. Stan's annoyance broke quickly. It was just too cute... There was no use getting huffy about it. Instead, Stanley just leaned over and kissed the sugar off of his lips.


	3. Seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insecure Lefou pays an unexpected visit to the Boutique.

Morning again. Each day the cold became harsher, and Stanley found it harder and harder to leave Lefou and their comfortable bed, lavished with body heat. He shuddered as their latest customer exited through the door to the boutique and let in another gust of frigid air.

“I completed Adam’s coat,” Stanley said, holding it up so that Madame could see. The piece of clothing was magnificent; a deep red velvet with black roses painstakingly sewn onto the borders, with shimmering gold buttons lining the edges. 

“Fantastique!” She sang, “Stanley, you have a real talent! The prince should thank you for his formidable appearance. Without us, he’d still be in tattered rags. I’ll get started on the stockings right away!”

Stanley smiled to himself as she fetched the fabric. He was very proud of his work. It was nice to be good at something. He’d thought about designing a few dresses for himself to wear in front of Lefou, and he would have, if only he had the time. Maybe instead he’d make something nice for Lefou to wear as a gift. He just couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken his measurements...

The door swung open again. Another gust of cold air spilled into the room, but this time a certain warmth and familiarity came with it. Although he had just been thinking about him, Lefou was the person Stanley least expected to show up to the boutique that day. He was bundled up in a wool overcoat, a pair of breeches draped over one arm. 

“Lefou!” Stanley wished to greet him with a kiss, but remembered that they were not alone. Lefou smiled back at him, but it was a sheepish smile, one that didn’t seem very assured. “What are you doing here?”

“Turns out, I’m supposed to make an appearance at the Tavern tonight to direct the band... and I have to look presentable.”

“You didn’t need to come to me for advice, you have plenty presentable outfits. What about your nice waistcoat?” Stanley replied, happy to see him, but confused as to why he was seeing him. Lefou simply bit the inside of his lip and shook his head. 

“No… Actually, could you, uh… just let these out for me?” Looking both ways, he slid the breeches over the counter, almost secretively.

“Oh.” Stanley understood now why Lefou was embarrassed. “Of course I can.” He walked out from behind the counter and removed Lefou’s coat for him. Lefou was hesitant to give it up, with Garderobe’s eyes on him. Stan hung it on what they called “the chapeau” and took a step back to get a good look at him. Even the nice clothes he was currently wearing were a bit tight. Madame, who, unlike Stan, hadn’t seen Lefou everyday since the summer, noticed from across the room. To her, the change seemed more drastic. Especially since she knew how clothing was supposed to fit. 

“Er... why don’t you show Monsieur Lefou into the dressing room to get measured?” Madame suggested. Stanley nodded, and Madame playfully nudged him on the shoulder. She had guessed that they had feelings for each other, but never until now had she really thought of Stanley and Lefou as a domestic couple. She gave him a little grin. Stanley got out from behind the counter and placed a hand on Lefou’s back. Madame smiled at them both before reaching out to shake Lefou’s hand.   
“It’s great to see you again, Henri.” 

Lefou was still a little ashamed of his new appearance, but took comfort in the fact that her words didn’t seem at all judgemental. Stanley grabbed his tape measure and led him to the dressing room. 

They slipped behind the curtain, and Stan tugged it shut. 

“All right, take off your shirt and unbutton your pants for me.” 

“That sounded more risqué than it needed to,” Lefou joked, his favorite way of stalling. Stanley laughed softly. Lefou wasn’t moving, so Stan began to unbutton for him. “Uh, Stanley, I’m sorry for coming in here, I know you’re busy, and I probably could’ve told you at home—gah! That tickles! If I had tried—ah—my nicer clothes on ahead of time—“

“Don’t worry about it, it will only take a few minutes,” Stan retorted. He made it through the first layer. With each button released, so was a feeling of relief upon his skin. But Lefou was still reluctant to show any of that skin. 

“Yeah, or if I had just kept my weight in check so I wouldn’t need to get adjustments at all, and I wouldn’t be—“

“Lefou, you’re gonna have to help me on this one,” Stan said, amusedly. It was almost like getting a child to change out of his clothes. 

“Fine.” Lefou gave up and undid the button on his pants, and his belly poked out over the waistline. He shut his eyes, trying to escape this moment. Though, he’d take Stanley as the one with him in this situation over anyone else in a heartbeat. Once that was over and done, Lefou surrendered his undershirt and let Stanley’s eyes wander. There was some silence, and Lefou didn’t know what to make of it. Stanley did. It was prominent, Lefou had added a bit more wiggle to his walk. New stretch marks adorned his arms, sides, and streaked across the front of his abdomen. Even his face would seem fuller if it weren’t hiding behind a dark scruffy beard. At the complete sight of him, Stanley suddenly realized how lazy they had been for the past few months. Well, not lazy. They both worked very hard on their endeavors… Perhaps ”inactive” was the correct word. Stan may have been in the same boat as Lefou if it weren’t for his daily commute to work, wood chopping, and maybe a higher metabolism. All they had been doing lately was lounging around the house. And he’d admit, the holidays were a bit more indulgent than they needed to be… Stan had noticed Lefou’s extra winter weight before (it made cuddling especially nice), but never thought it had gotten to the point where he would go up a clothing size or two. He hadn’t been sure if a comment would make Lefou uncomfortable or not, so he just never brought it up. Apparently Lefou hadn’t come to terms with it either, since he’d only been wearing loose and comfortable clothing around the house. Stan found it to be nice; not only the way he looked, but the fact that it came from his happiness with Stanley, enough to be completely disregarded until now. His mind jumped to the box of crullers from the night before, and he felt he may have been partially at fault.

“Well?” 

Stanley cleared his throat, like he was snapped out of a trance. “Right, uh, the measurements.” He pulled the tape measure out of his pocket, but noticed Lefou’s sorry expression. 

“How bad is it?”

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

“You... haven’t let me stare in a long time.” Lefou’s face turned red. Maybe Stan didn’t give him the correct response. He could understand why Lefou was embarrassed, but Lefou shouldn’t have been. Especially not around Stanley. He tugged at the end of the tape and draped it around Lefou’s chest. 

Lefou was worried about what Stanley was thinking. Was he disappointed? Ashamed? Turned off? Why didn’t he say anything before? His string of anxieties tightened when he took notice of where Stanley’s gaze was resting. 

“Stan, you’re staring again…” 

“Sorry,” He said, and went on to measure his arms. Lefou winced as the cold material came in contact with his warm skin. “It’s just… cute. I can’t help it. You’re really cute.” Stan said, and ran a finger down the curve of his soft shoulder.

“I’m—?” He blushed in confusion as Stanley scribbled down a number of inches that Lefou didn’t quite wish to see. 

“Cute.” Stanley finished the sentence with that word again, and moved on to his waist. Stanley got onto his knees and pinched the tape at the most protruding point of his stomach. 

“You think this,” Lefou began, lifting it up with two hands, “is cute?” He then dropped it, letting it bounce. Stanley cracked a smile, then placed a kiss on the number he would record. 

“Immeasurably.”

“Stopp!”

Lefou was bewildered. He was quite a bit heavier than the day Stanley first called him attractive. Even then, he was pretty chubby. He always assumed that Stanley kept showing his affection solely because he loved him for his personality, which in itself was comforting. It wouldn’t have mattered if he put on weight, because it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right? That’s true love. But… now it was seeming like Stanley actually liked what was on the outside. Lefou was unsure of what to say as Stanley finished lovingly assessing his hips and thighs. 

“You’re not joking?” He asked.

“Why would I be joking?” Stanley replied, returning to his normal height. 

“To make me feel better. About this.” 

“I do want you to feel better, Henri,” Stanley said, then wrapped the tape measure around Lefou’s waist and tugged it, pulling him close. “But you’re the jokester here, not me.” He leaned in and kissed Lefou on the lips, then dropped the tape measure, trailing his hands to the front of his chest. 

Lefou’s heart rate picked up. He wanted him here? Now? Like this? They hadn’t ever kissed in a public place before. Although... they were behind a curtain. And it had been a few months since they’d really gone at it, primarily because Lefou’s confidence decreased as his weight did the opposite. But this felt so nice. Before they knew it, the two were making out, pressing each other against the walls of the cramped room. 

It was enough excitement to completely miss the sound of the bell at the boutique door. Still in the heat of it all, Lefou got a hold of Stanley’s shoulders, then pinned him to the wall in front of him with a fair amount of force. Only that wall… was actually the curtain. The fabric gave way, and the two toppled onto the floor. 

“Unf!” 

Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea. Lefou lifted his head from Stanley’s neck, only to see the dainty legs of Prince Adam on the other side of the room, conversing with Madame de Garderobe. He froze in fear.

“Lefou—“ Stanley snapped, in something that seemed like a combination of wheeze and whisper. “Get... off of me…”   
Lefou scrambled to pry himself off of Stanley and quickly helped him onto his feet. 

“The Prince is here,” he whispered sharply. Stanley turned his head and nearly jumped at the sight of him. He frantically pushed Lefou back into the dressing room and yanked the curtain closed. 

“Put the rest of your clothes back on!” 

“None of them fit! The Prince can’t see me in—“

“He can’t see you shirtless, now can he!? You wore them in here… you can wear them out,” Stanley huffed, fixing his hair.

“If I can wear anything out it’s you,” Lefou smirked, wiping his mouth and throwing the undershirt over his head. Stanley nudged him on the shoulder for that comment, and took his first step outside of the dressing room.

“Ah, Monsieur Leypere!” Adam called out, and greeted him with a firm handshake when he came near. Luckily, it didn’t appear that he had seen what just happened. 

“Your... highness!”

“Nice to see you again, Stanley! You’re looking good.” He noticed Stan’s lack of breath. “My, have you been running?”

“Something like that.”  
Madame de Garderobe held back a laugh. 

“So, you came to pick up your coat?” Stanley said abruptly, hoping to get onto another topic. 

“Yes! Normally, I’d send my servants to do this sort of thing, but I wanted to come and thank you myself,” Adam replied. 

“Oh, how generous of you,” Stanley said, leading him in the direction of his sewing table.

“Y’know, I’d like to thank monsieur Lefou for putting on this show as well,” Adam said. “This one is specifically special to me and you know why. But I doubt I’d see him before the night of the performance. He’s made himself more scarce than me in the town centre this season, from what I’ve heard.” Stanley awkwardly nodded his head.

“You are in luck, sire!” Lefou called, throwing the dressing room curtain open. Almost succeeding in ignoring the straining buttons and seams, Lefou strutted over to the Prince and kissed his hand. “You’re welcome.”

“Oh, Lefou!” Adam was taken by surprise by the presence he had. It helped that Stanley had improved Lefou’s mood. He was on a high, at a completely different level of confidence than when he first walked in. And in front of the Prince… But Adam’s next words brought his macho down a smidge. 

“It’s been a while! You look…” Adam paused, unsure of how to dodge insulting him. “...Comfortable.” Still smiling, Lefou narrowed his eyes and tipped his head to the side. 

“Oh I am, your majesty. Just... not at the moment.”   
Stanley suddenly cleared his throat.

“Sire, your coat.” He lifted the deep red velvet blazer with black roses and gold buttons sewn in for Adam to see. 

“Oh, it’s divine!” Adam’s eyes lit up with joy.

“And a little something to go with it…” Stanley said, and presented him with a brown fur scarf. Adam laughed and threw it around his neck. “A little reminder of the man she fell in love with,” Stan said, “however peculiar that may be…”

“You do have a sense of humor in you!” Adam smiled. “Thank you, Belle will love it.” Stanley led him to the counter and Adam paid him for his work.“You have a real knack for this sort of thing, Monsieur Leypere. I’m glad you were able to make some success out of it.” Adam paused after paying close attention to his eyes. “Is that makeup you’re wearing?” 

“Uh, a little. Yes.”

“Very nice. I wear it every now and then. Only at parties. There, you can really go all out.” His response made Stanley smile. “I could lend you some before the performance if you’d like.” 

“Oh, my sisters have plenty for me to borrow, but... Thank you!” He liked the thought of showing up to the Tavern in a feminine getup. Not even just makeup. But no man had ever worn a dress to a show before. No… That would be outrageous. Unheard of.

“Alright then.” Adam loaded his things into a bag and turned his attention to Lefou before leaving. “I look forward to hearing your music, maestro. But this is my night, the night I intend to propose, so… don’t get too big for your britches.” He gave him a wink.

“That’s why I’m here to get them tailored, your dryness,” Lefou sneered. Adam let out a laugh, then walked out of the boutique with the regal sound of a bell. 

Stanley sighed in relief. That was a close one. “So, about those britches…” he began, looking around for the sheet he recorded his measurements on. “What time do you need them by?” 

“A little before five,” he replied. With very little confidence, Stanley looked at the heaping pile of clothes he still needed to stitch. He only had a few hours before their owners were scheduled to picked them up. Winter was their busiest season. Clothes are most important in cold weather, after all. “Is that a problem?” Lefou asked.

“Well… I’d like to say no…” Stanley sighed. “I would have made time for it if I had known earlier that you were going to come in.”

“That’s on me. I should’ve realized that they never would’ve fit,” Lefou said. “Inches ago.” He unbuttoned his vest and took a deeper breath.

“That’s perfectly fine.”

“The sad part is… none of my presentable clothes fit anymore. Not just the breeches. The casual baggy ones I wear around the house are the only ones that don’t cut into me, but of course I can’t wear those to the rehearsal…”

“I can tailor the rest at home,” Stanley said, then locked eyes with Garderobe. “Er, my house, I mean.”   
“How shall I pay you?” Lefou asked.

“From the likes of it, I think he’ll accept any type of payment!” Madame teased. She knew what happened in the dressing room. No doubt about it. The boys laughed uneasily. “But I don’t think there’s anything we can do for you today, monsieur Lefou,” she said. “I’m sorry.” In response, Lefou nodded, his confidence fading. 

“You can tough it out for one night, can’t you?” Stanley asked, grabbing hold of Lefou’s arms. Just his touch was enough to give Lefou a spark of confidence. “I know they’re uncomfortable. But I mean, they are really nice clothes. You’ve always looked great in them.”

“Thank you. It’s just a little… blatant looking. They’ll think I’m not taking care of myself.” He sighed, struggling to get the buttons closed again. “Well, I guess they’d be right,” Lefou said, running a hand over his beard and the other over his belly. 

“You don’t have to worry about taking care of yourself,” Stanley replied, “I’m taking care of you.” Lefou smiled. Stan’s literal response was enough to get him a little choked up, but a joke was all he could say in return.

“And what an immense job you’re doing,” he jested. “I can still taste cruller crumbs.” Stanley rolled his eyes.

“Just show up to the rehearsal with a good attitude. They’ll be so glad to have you back that they won’t even bat an eye.” Stanley helped Lefou into his wool coat. 

“I hope you’re right,” Lefou said.

“Fill me in tonight. I’ll be working in my spare time, thanks to you,” Stan replied, moving his breeches from the pile. 

“I owe you one, sweetness.”

“You owe me more than one,” Stanley said, “now get going.”


	4. You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lefou is discouraged after his first big public appearance goes awry. Stanley confronts the issue.

That night, Stanley sat alone at home in his desk with all of his sewing materials. He’d gathered up many of Lefou’s articles of clothing into a pile, and had the record sheet with the measurements he took earlier all set to go. He managed to get the breeches let out before work ended. He wouldn’t get paid in cash for the rest of these, but like Garderobe said… Lefou would find a way to thank him. His eyes drifted to the clock. Eight. Lefou would be home in an hour or two. Holding one of the vests in his hands, Stanley blindly reached for a spool and landed on one with pink thread. He turned his focus to the mirror above his desk. The remains of his lipstick were close to the same shade. He recalled what the prince had said to him earlier that day. His eye makeup did look a little shy, if he was being honest. And Adam had a point. At the show, he really could go all out…. He looked down at the velvet sheen between his once polished fingers. They had become less delicate with the demands of winter survival. Swinging the axe calloused both his hands and his true identity. Chopping wood was a testosterone-boosting activity, and he didn’t enjoy it. The firewood kept he and Lefou warm, but Stanley never felt warm when he tossed it into the fireplace. He was burning a part of himself he’d wished he had the courage to express. He was burning time. He ran his fingers over the glossy fabric. It could wait. Lefou could wait.   
With a jovial impulse, Stanley swiveled his chair across the room, tugging a drawer open. He excitedly pulled out streams of ribbon, lace, and whatever else he could find. He piled them on his desk and dunked his quill pen in ink. With delicate lines and strokes, a model soon appeared on his paper. A chique, flashy, blazer, and underneath, a gorgeous outspreading hoop skirt, adorned in ribbons and lace.

Soon the sounds of someone approaching the door were heard, and Stanley quickly knocked the contents of his personal project into the drawer, sliding Lefou’s pile of undersized clothes he promised he’d be working on back onto his workspace. The door flew open and revealed his partner, wearing a sour expression upon his face.  
“Lefou, you’re home early! How was your big reentrance?” Stanley swiveled his chair to beam at Lefou, but Lefou didn’t seem to share his same enthusiasm. Stan stood up and removed his coat for him. “They were all so glad to have you and your wonderful music back, yes?”  
“I’m sure they would have been if they could get past the fact––”  
“Ooh, and how did it sound out loud for once, were you pleased with it?” Stanley continued, too excited to even listen to him. “I’ll bet it was beautiful. I know you had a lot more to bring to the table this time. ”   
“Yeah…” Lefou muttered, “a lot more…” By now, Stanley was beginning to get the notion that it didn’t go so well. He rested his hands on the sides of Lefou’s arms. “Oh no. Something’s wrong. Sucre, what happened?” Lefou let out a long sigh as he struggled to undo a straining button.  
“You wanna know what happened?” He said, with a faltered smile. Stanley was taken aback. Lefou’s tone sounded angry. To the point of almost laughing.   
“Henri—“ But instead of telling him with words, all Lefou did was turn around. An embarrassing rip parted the seams of his pants. Stanley held a hand to his mouth. “Merde…”  
“Yeah. They noticed. Even before this happened, they noticed.”   
“Oh…”  
“The music itself went smoothly, if you were wondering. I almost forgot about how I looked. Until we rehearsed our bow. I was in front. That’s when the pants gave way. They called me: ‘an artist with a talent that can’t be contained, not even by his britches!’”  
“Well, that’s a compliment, right?”  
“The TUBA played me out!”  
“Wow, okay… that’s just insensitive.” Brimming with anger at the band, Stanley put it out of his mind and rested a comforting hand on Lefou’s shoulder. “Let’s get you out of these clothes. I’ve been working on the ones you left me. Once they’re ready, you’ll dazzle those people next time you see them.” He handed Lefou some clothing that he’d finished tailoring, then pushed him into the bedroom.   
“Thanks. But I can’t even think about going back there right now. I’m just so embarrassed.”  
“You don’t have to feel that way. They were just trying to make jokes, maybe they didn’t realize how much it hurt your feelings. Dim people will laugh at ripped pants in any context, I’m sure they don’t think any less of you.”  
“It’s not only about the pants, Stanley. It’s me. I’m just too fat.”   
“What?”  
Stan would’ve had no problem with his statement if it hadn’t have contained the word ‘too.’  
“I mean, I was fat before, but now… My weight has gotten way out of hand. I’ll try my best to shed as many pounds as I can before the performance. Don’t bother making dinner for me tonight, I’ll just have a little bit of leftovers.” His words worried Stanley. This wasn’t a healthy way to be thinking.   
“Henri, stop it.”   
“What? Wouldn’t you like that, though? You’d rather be dating a slim, strapping, guy, right? I could get there eventually. I’m willing to try. Besides, I want to spare you the shame of having to be seen with... this.” He gestured to his figure. There was no trace of sarcasm or aggression in his voice. He meant what he said and out of consideration, he would change himself if it meant he could please a crowd, or even Stanley alone. Lefou rested his hands at his sides. Limp. Rejecting the body he was in. It made Stanley’s insides wrench.   
“I would only be ashamed if I let you go on believing that.”  
“You don’t think I have what it takes to lose the weight?”  
“I don’t think you should. Not for the wrong reason.”  
“What?” He cocked his head to the side. The soft skin beneath his stubble folded against his neck, and Stanley looked back at him, frustrated with Lefou’s self doubt, the fact that he thought both he and Stanley would be happier if soft spots like those went away. Absurd.  
“They were wrong to make fun of you,” he said. “Will you be ok?”  
“Yeah, that was nothing. I’ll get over it eventually. It’s just…”  
“It’s more than them,” Stanley suggested. Lefou nodded. Stan planted himself on the bed and patted the spot next to him, gesturing for Lefou to sit.   
“Let’s talk about it then.”  
“Ok, but can I please change out of these first? They’re becoming unbearable.”  
“Oh yeah.” Stanley gave him a nod and rolled over on the bed, his eyes plastered to the ceiling. The sounds of Lefou’s balance shifting, fabric shuffling, and a grunt here and there filled the placid room, and Stan found it to be increasingly difficult to keep his gaze on the level above him. He turned and caught a glimpse of Lefou’s uncovered back then rolled over, smiling into the pillow. He thought about what had happened behind the curtain that morning and felt heat rush to his face. It was foolish really, the fact that they had been a couple for nearly two years now and he still got all mawkish every time Lefou changed in front of him. Well, the only reason he wasn’t that comfortable looking was that Lefou had never been that comfortable being looked at. But something told him this conversation might start to change that.   
Stanley opened his eyes when he felt Lefou’s weight press on the mattress beside him. He was dressed in a loose white nightshirt and cotton drawers.   
“Ok.”  
“Pray, proceed.”  
“You know what? Maybe I shouldn’t be so upset at them. The orchestra noticed I’d gained a lot of weight recently and couldn’t fit into my clothes. It’s embarrassing, sure, but I can understand why they’d poke fun at me. It’s funny. We can all laugh about that.”  
“All right.”  
“But thinking back to earlier… Even before all that happened, I was still embarrassed, you know. I was embarrassed when I walked into the boutique this morning. Actually, I… I’ve been embarrassed ever since we started dating.” A piece of Stanley’s heart crumbled. He wished he would’ve had this conversation sooner.  
“O-Oh?”  
“A few years ago, I went through a phase where I felt like I wasn’t manly enough. It was awfully degrading.” Stanley could assume who it was that made him feel that way. “And embarrassing. But that went away. I didn’t have to be a ruffian. I liked myself, I felt confident.”  
“That’s that confidence I fell in love with.”   
“But that same embarrassing feeling keeps coming back. Ever since this fall, when my weight started to change.”  
“What’s so embarrassing about it?”  
“Ask your three sisters.” Stanley clenched his fists in irritation. The bimbettes weren’t the most accepting people. He’d have to have another conversation with them. “It’s frowned upon to… look certain ways. People make assumptions about you.”  
Stanley felt those words drive into him. An image of a dress struck his conscience.   
“I know what you mean. But you don’t have to listen to th--”  
“And when I met you, I was feeling great. I was confident again, because I knew I had a charming personality, and that was all I needed. Because beauty lies within, you can ask Belle.”  
“Well yes, that’s one of the reasons why I love you.”  
“I love you for that reason too. But then I look at you, and every day I see how gorgeous you are, and how attracted I am to the body of the person I’m dating, and I start to feel bad. I feel bad that you don’t get to feel the same way about the person you’re dating. Especially not since fall.” Stanley was taken aback.   
“Says WHO? Oh Henri, I really should’ve complimented you more! Was today really the first time I called you cute?”  
“No, no. You’ve called me cute before. Me in general. But I don’t think you’ve ever called my body that specifically until today.”  
“Well, I’ve always thought of your body as cute. More than. I’m sorry if I never made that clear? If I’m responsible for how you’re feeling right now, I apologize--”  
“No, no! You don’t have to apologize! It’s just… I was thrown off this morning. Because I was feeling all insecure about my weight, and then you didn’t just say I was cute. You said my belly was cute. You probably said that just to be nice.”  
“Pshh, and then we made out! I meant it, Henri.”  
“Well, okay… whether you did or not, it made me feel good. And for the rest of the day I was thinking that maybe I was cute. Thank you for that.” Lefou sighed, as if what he was saying was ridiculous. “But…”  
“But what?”  
“Stanley, I’m all flab. Let’s face it. That’s not a thing people find cute. I’m not attractive. This isn’t attractive.”  
“Oh, stop that. I think it is!”  
“Really? Everyone else wouldn’t say so...”  
“Tsk, I’m sure not everyone thinks that. Besides! Who cares what everyone else thinks? The only thing that matters is what you think. But... I’ll tell you what I think if it’s any help.”  
“I already know what you think.”  
“I don’t think you do! Obviously not if you think I’m telling white lies to make you feel better about yourself.”  
“You mean... you actually find me attractive?”  
“Henri, I find every single thing about you wildly attractive! I always have and I always will. You are everything I’ve ever wanted... You’re perfect to me. Plus, If I didn’t find your body attractive, would I so often wrap my arms around you? Would I rest my head on your shoulder, or comfortably atop your lap? Would I sweep you away to plant kisses on your forehead and all along your big strong arms? Would I cuddle up to you at night, and lay my head on your belly while you practice your reading, and drift off to the rumble of your voice? Would I be unable to pry my eyes off of the sway of your hips when you dance gracefully around the Tavern?”  
“N-no…”  
“If that weren’t true, my heart would remain still when you let me massage your back, when I see you twirl in a dashing new coat… when you sneak up on me and hug me from behind. When you let your hair down after washing it, or when you reach for something and your shirt slides up ever so slightly…”  
“Stanley—“  
Without batting an eye, Stanley grabbed hold of Lefou’s hand and brought it to his chest. He took a deep breath inward. Lefou could feel the rhythm of his heart beating. Slow, steady, comfortable. Certain.   
“Show me something.”  
“Like what?”  
“Like Lefou.”   
Blushing, Lefou reached for the top button of his nightshirt.   
“Okay…”   
He finished and left the shirt open so that Stanley could see his chest and stomach. He didn’t try to hide anything this time. Stanley was struck with appreciation. With his free right hand, Lefou grabbed Stanley’s left. He felt Stanley’s chest pound faster as he slid his hand beneath the fabric, letting it rest on his bare hip. The beats pulsed through Lefou’s left palm, ringing strong and true. In this moment, Lefou felt extremely gratified. Keeping their hands in the same position, Lefou hung his legs off of the side of the bed and dropped them to the floor. He stood up, and led Stanley to do the same.  
“Like Lefou, eh?”  
He began to sway. Slowly… Gently… Then step. Neatly, quietly… and turn. He and Stanley were dancing. For the first time since the day at the castle. Privately. More intimately than ever. As soon as Stanley realized what they were doing, he exhaled a flustered laugh. That was very Lefou. His movements fell into place when he found himself lost in Lefou’s charming, deep brown stare, soaking in the moment as it happened in the sweet, silent rhythm of his heartbeat. As they swayed softly, Lefou began to hum a shy tune.   
“What are you singing?” Stanley asked, his voice almost a whisper.   
“You’ll see at the concert,” Lefou smiled. “It’s about you.”   
Stanley’s heart sped up again, and Lefou could feel his excitement through his fingertips. “I couldn’t be luckier to be loved by you,” Stanley said, releasing his hold of Lefou’s hand and throwing his arms around his shoulders.   
Lefou kissed him. They fell back onto the bed, intertwined. Lefou’s shirt was spread wide open, and for the first time ever, he didn’t even care.   
“Hey, Stanley,” Lefou began, holding him gently like a delicate flower, “thank you. For telling me what I really needed to hear.”  
“Of course, mon cher. I love you just the way you are. I would be devastated if you changed yourself to appease anyone other than you.” Lefou met Stanley’s eyes. Everything about him was genuine and kind. Lefou knew that he was loved. He couldn’t have been more sure of something in all of his life. He grabbed Stanley’s hands, daintily stroking the remnants of pink nail polish.   
“I hope you know that the same goes for you,” Lefou said. “You’re amazing. Don’t ever hold back. Don’t be anyone else but you, okay?”  
“Okay,” Stanley smiled.  
“I love you, Stan.” Lefou lifted his hand and kissed his fingers. “I’m done giving a damn about what anyone else thinks.”  
“Good.”   
“I’m sorry I assumed you were like them. I won’t doubt you again.” Lefou closed his eyes, feeling comfortable at last. Stanley turned on his side.  
“No… I’m sorry I let you go through this. I had no idea you felt this bad. I would have said something.”  
“It’s not your fault, it’s been a thing with me since the war ended. I guess I adjusted back to average life a bit differently than everyone else… And no one thought it was pretty,” Lefou said, some of the negative comments pushing their way back to the front of his mind. Stanley’s face fell long with sympathy. He tossed a fist in the air.  
“To Hell with them!” He shouted, “They’re all missing out on how wonderful a little extra Henri can be!” Stanley threw himself onto Lefou’s uncovered torso, hugging him tightly. He held onto Lefou’s soft bicep with one arm, and wrapped the other around Lefou’s waist. He kissed Lefou’s cheek gently, and nestled his face into the crook of Lefou’s neck. Lefou was dumbfounded. Stanley laid there on his partner in tranquil, with a smile on his face, feeling the warmth of Lefou’s body and the rhythm of his restful breathing.   
“Henri Lefou, you are absolutely beautiful,” Stanley whispered, marveling at the shape of his skin. It made Lefou’s heart soar. He began to think he might actually enjoy trying on his new clothes. No. In fact, he could barely wait!


End file.
